


Sansa's Moans

by CDKim



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18878281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CDKim/pseuds/CDKim
Summary: Jon finally comes to the realization his aunt and former lover has gone completely insane. He enlists the help of his closets advisers to end her rule. While at the same time seeking forgiveness, direction and comfort from the one person her cares for most, Sansa.





	Sansa's Moans

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Game of Thrones or its characters. As a warning the relationship in this story could be considered scandalous but so is what you are probably doing while reading it. Either way I hope you enjoy reading it.

"Maybe If I could've laid with her again, she wouldn't have burned Kings Landing and all Its citizens would still be alive?" Jon questioned Davos.

"The Dragon Queen would have murdered everyone regardless of who she's fucking lad." Davos responds, forthright as always.

The men contemplate their next move from the command tent, inside the Stark camp. It's the only dwelling still standing, next to the burned out city that was once King's Landing. Jon sits still ashen from battle, if it can even be classified as such, for it was more of a massacre. His stomach turns from just the thought of it. He knew he couldn't let it stand.

"Daenerys has to fall." Jon proclaimed.

"Aye." Was the only word Davos had the will to utter.

Jon exited the tent, leaving Davos alone to break down in his own right. As he walked out he noticed the air still hung heavy, with the smell of burning flesh and blood. The aroma of smoked caused his eyes to sting and tear. He raised his sleeve to wipe his face clean, upon realizing the tears still flowed free, he was crying. Unable to control himself any longer, he let his emotions take him. He'd seen many a battle but never before involving woman and child, reaching a death toll of great magnitude. 

Once Jon thought himself collected, he started walking back towards the command tent, where he left Davos. Until the unexpected thought of melting bodies reoccurred in his mind once more, cause his stomach to lurch forward expelling this mornings meal at his feet. As Jon stepped aside of his sick, he brought his sleeve to his face, cleaning it away once more. While doing so, he noticed a small wooden toy horse among the rubble. He picked the toy and as soon as he did so, he heard a rider approaching on him fast. He was about to unsheathe Longclaw until he noticed the person atop the steady steed looked biology familiar.

"Arya!" Jon screamed, as the young Stark jumped from the horse to pull her brother/cousin... family into a enveloping embrace which Jon gladly reciprocated.

"Jon, did you see? It was awful. People running in all directions, all paths ending with death, either by fire or by being crushed by falling debris." Arya actually sounding panicked as she spoke. 

"I know Arya. I saw everything. I was front and center to all the dismay, destruction and disaster caused by the Queen that I backed. Arya I'm sorry. I failed the North, I failed my people and worst of all, I failed my family. Can you ever forgive me Arya?" Jon asked, to ashamed to meet her gaze. 

"When the snows fall and the wind blows, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Just remember that next time you want to give away, what no one person can own. The North belongs to every Northern that lives within it, 'brother." Arya finished saying with a slug against Jon's bicep. 

"What can I...We do to fix this?" Jon asked perplexed, as he rubbed the back of his neck exacerbated.

"Go home and rally as many armies as you can. Get Sansa to help, she's always been very good in such matters of politics." Arya said in more of a order then a suggestion, as she climbed atop her bloodied mare once more. 

"I can't let you deal with her all on your own Arya." Jon stated, still taken aback by his sis...cousins assertiveness.

"Do you honestly think you could kill her Jon." Arya said as a statement rather then as a question.

She was of course correct in her assessment for Jon could only stare at his boots in response before he asked,

"What will you do?" Though he already knew her answer.

"I'll do what I do best, seek revenge. Your dear aunts been added to my list." 'Sorry Clegane' Arya screams, mushing her horse on, riding back towards the eye of the Stormborn. 

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Jon didn't hesitate to obey Arya's order, to return to Winterfell. He left a small garrison outside of King's Landing, to not arouse Daenerys suspicion of the North's loyalty to her. As he and Davos alone, departed the ruins of what remained of the South. Along the way dispatching ravens at every Keep they happened upon, enlisting any and all aid against overthrowing the newly appointed Crown. Jon also sent notice to Sansa, putting her into action, as Arya...suggested. 

It was hard for Jon to ask for Sansa assistance, for so long she treated him less than but 'not since I'd rescued her from that monstrous cretin, Ramsey.' He thinks to himself as they remount their steeds, leaving yet another random Keep, on their way home to Winterfell.   
"I still have no desire to be King." Jon finally broke the long silence by saying.  
"I know you don't lad but think of the alternative. Once the Dragon Queen tires of torching King's Landing, where do you think she'll fly next? You yourself saw how she takes her revenge on people she's believes wronged her, even the ones that haven't burn. Do you honestly believe she'll let Sansa's disloyalty stand with just Vary's death alone. If that's the case you really haven't been paying attention." Davos finished saying, in a tone barely audible to be heard.

The men hardily talked the rest of the journey North. Jon feared his friend and trusted adviser, was disappointed in his appointed leadership of the North and its people. Everyone close to him warned him that that Dragon Queen was unstable and could not be trusted but all Jon saw was his willingness to assist in the Battle of the Dead. Perhaps his judgement was clouded, as only weight walkers had occupied his mind, he must always remember the element of deception that always eludes him. He must rectify the situation, knowing this time he needs not to go it alone. 

They made good time stopping only to dispatch ravens and take little rest. It was night when they finally arrived through the gates of Winterfell. Though his home was still in shambles from the recent battle that just took place there, it was still the most welcoming place in the world, at least in Jon's eyes. He immediately went to Sansa's chambers, to check on her. For Davos previous words chilled him still. 'I will not let anymore more harm come to Sansa then she's already had to endure,' for that he was sure. He thought to himself as he reached her chamber door.

"Sansa?" Jon whispered, as he slowly opened her door.

The room was pitch black, except for the faint light emanating from her hearth. He made his way over to the side of her bed, where she lay sleeping. He gazed down upon her as the faint light kissed her exposed skin. He stood there in awe of her beauty. He knew the thoughts he's been having about his cousin lately, should be considered wrong but ever since Bran informed him of his true parentage, he couldn't help it when her soft curves and luscious lips invaded his mind, almost constantly. 

"Sansa wake up." Jon said louder before the moment carried him away. 

"J-Jon." Sansa moaned in her sleep causing his eyes to widen and the breath to catch in his throat. 

'She's dreaming of me? He must be mistaking the situation. She must be be having a nightmare.' He thinks, about to jostle her awake.

"O-Ooh, J-Jon." Sansa carnal moans escaped past her lips, confirming a suspicion while disproving another. No doubt she was dreaming about him and from the sounds admitting from her, it was no nightmare. 

'What's the harm in listening for a bit?' Jon thinks, as a mischievous grin irrupted upon his face. He also noticed the red flush of her skin, as if she was heated even though the room had a chill. Sansa's moans grew more intense by the second, as she writhed beneath her blankets, losing herself within her dream. His name continuing to fall from her lip,s as he sensed her nearing her apex. Jon had to cease the temptation before his hormones got the better of him.

"SANSA." This time Jon yelled, as he simultaneously shook her on her shoulder, waking her in the progress.

"Jon? What are you doing in my chambers? Sansa squealed, as she pulled her covers up to her neck, her expression drenched in embarrassment. '

'She must have retained the details from her most recent dream.'

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt...." 

"You didn't disturb anything but my sleep." Sansa cut him off to say dismissively.

She swang her legs over the side of her bed and rose to her feet, grabbing her robe in the process. She walked towards Jon, expecting him to waiver and retreat to the hallway from which he came. Alas he did not, Sansa swallowed her Stark pride to gaze into his eyes in order to gage his intent. And what she saw struck her to her core, for his eyes only revealed lust. Sansa knew Jon's unwavering sense of chivalry would prevent him from advancing and retreating concurrently. Until she remembered, 'for when Jon gets angry or upset, his inhibition falter'. She was going to take full advantage of knowing Jon's weaknesses. 

"I'm glad you finally came to the realization of your Dragon Queen insanity." Sansa spat, in her first attempt to provoking Jon to anger.

"Daenerys is no longer my Queen. As I explained in the raven I sent you, upon my departure from the ruins of King's Landing. The city had surrendered, the victory already hers, yet she murdered thousands of innocent people just because she could." Jon stated, as his memories flashed back to the horrors of King's Landing. 

"I warned you of her lethalness and you ignored my counsel. You alone decided to invite a deadly dragon into our den without giving a single thought to anyone else's opinion." Sansa throws another quip. As she thinks, 'Come on damn it, get angry.'

"I know. I made a mistake. I thought the benefits of her army assisting in the Battle of the Dead would outweighed any possible negatives her alliance would bring. I should have listened to you. You were right and I was wrong, I'm sorry Sansa. Jon said, ashamed of his failures at leadership.

'Fuck. So much for making him angry. Instead of drawing anger from him, while only hitting sadness.' She thinks to herself, before switching tactics. She walked closer to him, invading his personal space in order to comfort him.  
"You only did what you thought was best for the North. It was best at the time, we did need her army. The dead would have killed us all, if the dragon army hadn't held them off. Fath...uncle would have been proud of you." She finished saying, as she reached for him, pulling him close, flush against her body.   
Her arms held him close as her hands began to roam his back. He returned the gesture by bringing his own hands up, wrapping his arms around her waist. Their hands now exploring each others backs, through their clothes. 'How do redheads emit such urges from me?' Jon thinks, giving into himself, as his mouth starts pecking light kisses along her jaw and neck line. Thus causing a deep moan to escape Sansa's airway. Jon covered her mouth with his, engulfing the moan in the progress. 

Sansa was fully enjoying what was conspiring between the two but she needed more. Boldly she began untying the laces on his tunic. Jon's eyes widen, before questioning her,

"What are you doing?" He asked a few octaves higher then intended.

"Taking your shirt off." Sansa stated obviously.

"I-I don't know if this is appropriate." Jon uttered but made no actual attempt in stopping her.

"Yeah? Do you want me to stop?" She asked whispering in his ear, after she finished her task of untying his shirt.

With her proximity and obvious desire for him, Jon could not begin to contemplate her questions. For the blood from his brain seemed to have retreated to a lower standpoint in his body, now event by both parties.

"It doesn't appear your body wants me to stop." Sansa says, inferring to his growing rigidity. She then proceed to say,

"In fact, I think you want me as much as I've been wanting you." She admits. 

"What were you dreaming about when I came in?" He asked, as it was the only thing Jon could respond with.

"It was a recurring dream I've been having for quite sometime now. It involves me entangled in a web of lust and passion. My lover sending me over my pinnacle again and again." She confesses boldly.

"And who is this lover?" Though he already half knew her answer, he asked her anyway for he couldn't help but be a little jealous. 'Even if he was envious of himself.'

"It's you foolish man, it's always been you. I think that's why I treated you so badly when we was growing up. Even though I wanted you, I had to push you away for I knew how I felt about you was quite improper. With your true lineage coming to light, I see no further need in hiding my feelings for you any longer." Sansa said, laying her entire truth on the table.

Jon didn't know how to respond, for he was never one with words. So he let his actions speak for him, by lifting his lessened shirt over his head and discarding it on the floor next to them. Sansa eyes widened, as she soaked in the view of Jon's now bare chest.

"I've always wanted you too, Sansa." Jon moaned, as he brought his lips to hers, slowly connecting them.

Sansa melted into his gentle kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not only to pull him closer but to keep her knees from buckling under the tremendous sexual desires building up between the two. Sansa moaned into his mouth, in doing so sent a invitation to Jon's tongue to explore the inside of her mouth and he excepted. As their tongue entangled, his hands began to roam her back through her thin silk nightgown.

Jon reluctantly pulled away from their kiss while still holding the fabric of her nightgown in his grasp, he brought his eyes to meet hers. Sansa understood his urgent nonverbal message and signified as such, raising her arms in the air thus allowing him to remove her nightgown over her head. Doing so in one smooth motion, fully exposing herself to him. Making Jon realize to his delight, Sansa doesn't wear underclothes beneath her nightgown.

"Oh gods Sansa, you're gorgeous." Jon spoke breathlessly, as he eyed her naked body from head to toe.

"Hmm, take off your pants Targaryen." Sansa ordered in a tantalizing tone with a seductive smile on her face.

Jon stilled upon hearing his legitimate name coming from her at such a intimate time. Making him suddenly become elated with his new Targaryen title, for it included the freedom to be with the woman he loves, Sansa. 'I do love her, as a man loves a woman and no other way.' His eyes widen upon his newfound revelation, as he obeys her order by kicking off his boots and removing his trousers along his small clothes in one flush motion completely bearing himself to her. 

Sansa took Jon by his hand and led them to her bed. She couldn't explain even to herself where this new take charge woman materialized but she liked the confidence she included. Upon reaching her bed Jon proceeded to empower Sansa to steer their escapades by climbing on the bed first thus allowing her to be on top, if she so choose. Which she did as she herself climbed on her bed, then crawling her way up to where he lay. She lays next to him and he turns to her, bringing his hand up to her face as his thumb begins caressing her cheek. 

She takes his cue by bringing her lips to meet his once more. As the young lovers deepen their embrace on one another, Sansa shifts her position, moving her body atop his. Expelling a grown from Jon in the process, as his arms move to her lower back, then lower. Jon grasps firm upon her taut ass causing her to moan into his kiss again. As his tongue repeats the same action as before, slipping into her mouth to dance with hers. 

Sansa can no longer take the anticipation, she brakes their kiss, looks him in his eyes as she reaches between them to take his manhood in hand before she unexpectedly sinks down upon him, slowly enveloping his entirety. Both screaming each others names in the process, as Sansa starts eagerly pulsating atop his cock. As his hands roam to her front, sliding up her waist and ending up cupping her breast. He lightly squeezes her nipple causing her head to fling back with pleasure. Jon brings his other hand down to where they join and begins rubbing her clit as his hips join in thrusting into her.

"Oh gods J-J-J-JON." Sansa screams, as the combined actions sends her over her edge, she continues to loudly moan his name, as her climax takes control. 

Exhausted from her apex, Sansa almost falls spent at his side, until Jon takes control he swiftly takes Sansa in his hold, switching positions with her without pulling out of her. With him above her now, he quickens the pace, thrusting in and out of her with considerable intensity. Reaching a greater ecsasy then he has ever know, as he begins to feel his own orgasm take hold, he feels Sansa about to peak once more, so he returns his thumb to her clit and begins rubbing it to assist in her achieving the goal again. And she does once more, screaming his name, the sight of his Sansa coming a second time from his doings is to much for him to bare.

"OH FUCK, S-SANSA." Jon shouts, as his climax takes him, he slides his now listless cock out of her, then falls down at her side pulling her into a loving embrace at the same time

"I love you." Jon says, for it was his turn to be bold.

Sansa turned to face him, bringing her hand to caress his cheek, while she search his eyes for confirmation of truth in his confession. She must have found what she seeked, for she closed the already small gape between them and crushing her lips to his as she moved atop him once more. Thus action causing a simultaneous moan to escape the pair. Sansa moved from Jon's lips, planting light kisses along his jaw line, slowly trailing down his neck. Past his clavicle, leaving a path of sweet kisses down the center of his naked chest. As somehow it seem her hands explore his entire body at once.

Upon reaching his now recovered harding erection, she looked into his eyes as she took him in her mouth to his full entirety. As she alternated between her mouth, her hand, then both thus causing very loud declarations in the name of Sansa, to come howling from his mouth. No doubt echoing throughout the entire walls of Winterfell. Their would be no one inside the castle who wouldn't know of the Lord and Ladies exploits.  
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"Thank you for helping me write these urgent messages to all the Northern and Southern Lords and Ladies Lord Tarly. I've never been one for writing and we need all the allies we can find to overthrow the Targaryen Queen." Davos said to Samwell, as he opened the door to the Great Hall, allowing the young almost maester to enter the building first. 

"It's no problem at all Ser Davos, I understand the severity of the situation. Let us enlist the aid of Lady Sansa and Jon to help in the writing process and I insist you call me Sam." Samwell suggested, as they turn the corner, heading in the direction of Sansa quarters.

'What a kind lad, nothing like his departed father.' Davos thinks to himself. As soon as the pair reach the Ladies door, about to knock, they simultaneously hear the couple in obvious throws of passion. Halting the two men in their tracks before they instantly turn in retreat. Heading on to the rookery, leaving the young lovers to continue their interlude with somewhat privacy.   
"That lad is going to end up laying with his entire family." Davos muttered, as they walk on.  
"Well I suppose that's one way of keeping harmony. " Samwell quickly retorts.

Causing both men to irrupt with laughter, as they turn to climb the stairs to the rookery.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to comment and kudos, if you enjoyed it and thanks for reading.


End file.
